


The Morning After

by Airelle



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Consensual Kink, M/M, S&M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airelle/pseuds/Airelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie and Doyle in a committed relationship including S&M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> First published in Dark Fantasies, 1993  
> Alao archived at The Hatstand and on Proslib CD.
> 
> _This story is dedicated to the three persons who are responsible for it: Jo Ann for wanting to do this zine, The Glaswegian for being one of the best S/M Pros writers in fandom, and to Cat for giving me invaluable technical advice and the idea I needed to end the story._

"We were supposed to be off duty!", Doyle raged as he watched the slow, painful movement with which Bodie dressed. The ex-merc was abnormally pale, his already white complexion turned pasty. They had expected a leisurely waking, a long rest and a cuddle, and Doyle tending to Bodie's needs. They had definitely not counted on being rudely awakened by Cowley's voice a little after 5 a.m.

* * *

"Doyle? Bodie does not answer. Is he with you?"

"What? Yes, sir, he's here, he's still asleep... We're off duty... sir."

"No longer, Doyle! I need you both, and quick! It's a special assignment. I'll expect you at..." Doyle could almost see him looking at his watch, mentally adding up how long they'd need to wake up properly and make the trip to CI5's headquarters. "...7 sharp."

"We'll be here, sir."

"Good. Come directly to my office, I'll brief you. Cowley, out."

* * *

Reluctantly, he had awakened Bodie; but the job came first, as always. He had kissed him softly on the mouth, trying to bring him to consciousness as gently as possible, cursing inwardly for their indulgence of the night before. "I'm sorry, love, but we're on duty. The Cow just called. He's needing us, and there's no avoiding it. God, I wish we hadn't..." Bodie opened bleary eyes, slowly focusing on Doyle, the words sinking in at last. When it became clear that he had to work, he let out a groan, rolled to his side and sat up.

"No fault of yours, sunshine, I'm the one who asked for it, remember?"

"And I'm the one who went on and on after that, even when you wanted to stop."

"You know that's not true, Ray. I did not really want you to stop. Think I couldn’t force you to stop if I truly wished it? I... enjoyed it, as usual. I just did not know I'll have to work today."

Bodie was watching Doyle from under lowered lashes, traces of the ardently submissive lover of the night before showing in his demeanor. Doyle's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his beautiful mate, _mine to hold and to keep, and to do with as I wish_ , he thought flippantly. Still, Bodie was going to suffer today, and not in a pleasant way. The aches and pains he would have borne quite easily while resting in bed were going to be much more nagging on a working day. Doyle worried too that it could impair Bodie's efficiency, perhaps endanger him. But that was a concern he could not share with his mate. There was no way to avoid it, and it was useless to state to Bodie a fact he knew as well as Doyle himself.

Then Bodie dragged himself to the bathroom, and Doyle fixed a hasty breakfast for them both, but Bodie was slightly queasy, and not hungry at all, which was unusual. As he refused listlessly the food Doyle offered him, the older man frowned.

"Bodie? Are you sure I did not hurt you seriously last night? I know you bled some, but as you did not complain afterwards, I assumed it was not dangerous... We fell asleep, and I did not think to check..." Bodie had washed himself clean in the bathroom, wincing at the soreness between his buttocks and on his chest and belly. Truth to tell, he usually enjoyed the remnants of this kind of activity, in which they rarely indulged, for the very reasons that had pulled them out of bed : the possibility that Cowley would call them even on a day off.

But last night, the lure of it had been irresistible. Last night, Bodie had needed so much the forceful sensations, and Doyle had wanted so much to see Bodie's face twist in agonizingly enjoyable pain, to see his body open and submissive, begging for the violence that was his best avenue to scalding pleasure, that the scene set itself almost of its own accord.

The quasi-telepathic rapport they shared in their working hours played in full swing in their personal relationship too. They needed no words; Doyle knew when Bodie was desperate for a S&M session, and Bodie could feel in the air the peculiar tension of Doyle wanting to dominate him, to make him hurt and beg and come so hard Bodie always felt as if his heart would stop. Bodie knew the feral look of his Ray in this kind of mood. And the wonder was, up to this day they'd never been out of tune about it, for Doyle could recognize unerringly the sultry, moody look in the dark blue eyes, the look that meant Bodie was ready for it, eager for it, hot for it.

Last night had been such a night; two days off duty, an evening of undemanding telly-watching and mild drinking, the prospect of a whole night of love together; and the mood had been set. Their last serious session was weeks old, and as they went in Doyle's bedroom, they both knew what was going to happen. But only Doyle knew precisely _how_ it would happen.

* * *

They never played domination games, or master-slave fantasies. In fact, they never played. What took place between them was serious, and could have been deadly. Doyle knew everything about the Game, and where Bodie had acquired his taste for violence; violence in his job, in his temper, in his life, and, ultimately, in his sex life. But as for the latest, Bodie enjoyed violence exerted on himself, not violence he might exert on others. Doyle had wondered if it was a way of punishing himself for what he was, or had been, or could have become if given half a chance.

Yet, unconscious punishment did not correspond to the pleasure emanating from the thrashing and moaning body of his mate, as Doyle exerted his own perverted taste for violence. Perverted, that was how Doyle thought of it when he was not doing it. During the deed, it all seemed quite normal and sane. Bodie sometimes needed pain to reach sexual satisfaction, and Doyle was more than happy to oblige, for he never felt more alive than when he was exerting such power on Bodie.

Power, was it what it was all about? Simple, primal desire for power? Another macho hangup? Doyle had often wondered why he had never felt these sadistic tendencies when he made love to women. Because power, if exerted on people physically weaker than himself, was not exciting? Maybe because the knowledge that it was true that Bodie could have stopped the proceedings anytime merely by using his physical strength, yet had never done so, was so much more exhilarating?

* * *

Once in the bedroom, Doyle had asserted his dominance with a soul-deep kiss, one that left Bodie weak-kneed and trembling. A kiss he filled with the love he felt for his mate, and the dark need of what was to come; a need he had assessed a long time ago, and that he would not dream to deny. As Bodie would not, could not deny this part of himself.

Doyle had lowered the lights, leaving only a bedside lamp that lit darkly the double bed. This was a thing of shadows, and he knew Bodie was able to let go better in semi-darkness. However, the lamp glow was enough for Doyle to see clearly his lover's reactions.

Bodie was always totally passive, totally open and accepting during the scenes, but in an active way that Doyle could not think of as truly submissive. They always began with caresses, soft then getting stronger, to awaken Bodie's nerves to the roughest enjoyment to come, to introduce him progressively to the sharp pleasure of delightful pain.

They had toys, for the limits of that someone could do with his own body to create subtle, delicious pain in another body had been reached quickly. And neither of them found erotic the brutal beatings or senseless abuse some indulged in. No, the pain had to be sharp, yet delicate, had to tease, to torment, to entice.

The first toy had been the nipple clamps, and these had been timidly given to Doyle by Bodie, at a time when it was not yet clear where precisely they were heading. It took Bodie a lot of courage to let his desires known to his lover of a few months, in a way that left no place for imagination. Doyle never wondered about who would have the clamps on, and who would apply them. Although it was the first definite indication Bodie gave of his peculiar tastes, there had been hints, and Doyle was nobody's fool. He'd guessed, as their lovemaking became rougher and rougher, what exactly turned Bodie on. And he'd questioned his own willingness to accommodate Bodie.

Bodie, on the other hand, never thought for a second that Doyle could misunderstand. He too had recognized this side of his personality excited Doyle greatly. His only fear was that his lover may not want to acknowledge it openly.

They used the clamps the first night after the gift, and Bodie was so elated at this easy acceptance of his "little quirk" that he felt his feelings for Doyle get that much closer to love, that much closer to commitment.

Other toys had joined that first one, some bought by Bodie, some by Doyle. The newest toy, the one he'd intended to try as soon as the mood came over them, was tucked securely away in a toolbox in Doyle's cupboard, partly for security reasons, partly to hide it from Bodie. He wanted his friend to experience it without knowing beforehand what it was going to be.

Doyle took out the ornate riding crop with which they began most of the sessions, and hit Bodie across the abdomen, sharply, without warning. Bodie gasped and doubled over, his hands to his hurting belly, his sex already beginning to fill. Doyle smiled, and told him to straighten out, and to endure the blows without moving. Bodie, his eyes watering, his flushed face turned towards his lover, managed to obey, his hands closing tightly on the bed linens with each blow, his breath catching on muffled moans. Doyle was careful not to break the skin, for he knew that Bodie would not enjoy the manipulation of his abdomen as much if he had open wounds on it.

When it was done to his satisfaction, Doyle bent over his friend and began a series of lick, kisses and bites all over him. Not only the pain was enjoyable, but also the sharp contrast between soft pleasuring and rough treatment. He licked a wet path from Bodie's throat to his navel, and then bit sharply several times the already-abused abdomen, while fingering his friend's nipples. One of the things Doyle loved about Bodie was that, unlike most men, he had very sensitive nipples, responding as well to gentleness as to more violent stimulation.

Then Doyle judged that the time was ripe for the nipple clamps. They had several now, and the sophisticated pair he'd selected for tonight had little spikes which were designed to break the skin, making Doyle dream about having Bodie's nipples pierced and ornated. He knew Bodie would have liked to, but in their present job, it was simply impossible, they were in too much danger of being hurt and brought to hospital to risk this kind of exposure.

Doyle took the first clamp and placed it carefully upon one erect nipple. Bodie bit his lips, and his hand flew to his chest, then returned to his side. Deliberately, Doyle did not place the second clamp immediately, letting Bodie get used to the pain of the first, letting him anticipate the pain yet to come. He stroked and petted him all over, circling towards his cock, not yet touching, pressing on his belly, then at last taking in his hand the aching shaft, erect and ready now. He pumped it for a little while, then let it go again and returned his attention to Bodie's chest, placing the second clamp.

Bodie was thoroughly enjoying himself, the tormentingly delightful sensations gliding through him, his nerves screaming, his body telling his brain this pain was pleasure, and he wanted more, more... The ache in his balls was akin to burning, his chest was on fire, his belly was deliciously sore, and he desperately wanted to come. Doyle knew him and knew what he needed. Dpyle lowered his head to his lover's groin, and swallowed him whole.

Doyle did not like much sucking cock. At least, he'd not enjoyed it before, but knowing Bodie liked it so much was the best incentive he'd ever had to perform an act he had most consistently refused to his previous lovers. But he was addicted to Bodie's moans and groans and restless thrusting, and he sometimes indulged his lover in oral sex, knowing a first, quick climax would prolong their games far into the night, once the urgency was gone. He himself did not come so early in the proceedings, he much prefered a delayed, slowly building climax, that would be that much more powerful. But he did enjoy a lot, by proxy, the early climaxes he gave Bodie.

Bodie, his cock in the delicious warmth of Doyle's generous mouth, the pain of his abdomen and nipples reverberating maddeningly through every nerve, his arse stretching with the scissoring of the two fingers Doyle had thrust in him and which were creating an unbelievable tingling sensation in his guts, came strongly, and Doyle swallowed his semen when it hit the back of his throat, the only way, bar pulling his mouth away before the onset of climax, to avoid feeling the vile taste of the foul liquid.

Doyle let Bodie get his breath back, then began to apply stimulation again. He massaged the belly, on which dark bruises were appearing, pressing deeply into the muscled yet pliant flesh. He pulled on the clamps, jarring them, watching the blood ooze from the site where the small spikes had created equally small open wounds, licking at them, thoroughly wetting the nipples, then biting again all over chest and stomach, and all the time Bodie moaned and asked for more, and said over and over again how much he loved Doyle, how good it was... Bodie, once he got going, was a very verbal lover, and Doyle - much more reserved - adored this aspect of his friend's personality.

Soon, Bodie was aroused again, but in no danger of climaxing too soon, and Doyle intended that Bodie's next climax would be determined by his own needs, not by Bodie's.

He retrieved from the bedstand the ball divider that he intented to use on Bodie, knowing how much his lover liked the stretching feeling the device gave - and how long it permitted to delay climax. He strapped the device on, closing the upper ring of leather around Bodie's cock, and the lower, thicker one around his scrotum, pushing down the balls. Bodie moaned, and Doyle could see his hands closing and opening at his sides. Then Doyle pulled the divider strap up between Bodie's testicles and closed the button on the upper catch, separating the balls, which stood out on either side of the rather large leather strap, the little ring that adorned it digging painfully in the taut flesh.

It was perfect. Bodie was perfect. And Doyle knew they were going to have one of their best nights yet.

* * *

Doyle was light-headed from lack of sleep, but he spared one look to Bodie and held his hand out for the car keys. Bodie did not object, he lacked sleep as much as Doyle, and besides he was hurting all over; his abdomen was particularly painful, both the external bruising and the intermittent cramps that knotted his insides. Lying, it would have been bearable; walking, or sitting, and constricted in his trousers, it was much more difficult. Yet he had to endure it, and he would.

The cramps, Bodie knew, were due to the vigor with which his intestines had been moved the night before. What Doyle had done had been rather outside Bodie's experience, and almost more than he could bear. But once he'd accepted what Doyle wanted him to accept, he'd felt rather proud to be able to give so much, to trust so much.

* * *

The new toy Doyle had bought was rather peculiar. The bloke in the shop had told him he could show him something that was reserved for really unusual tastes, and Doyle had quite believed it when he saw the device. He knew Bodie well, and he knew the man would defer to any of his lover's whims; he had already. But this one... Yet it would be interesting to watch Bodie struggle between his desire to submit and his fear of what Doyle would be doing to him.

* * *

The drive was rather long, and both men were subdued, Doyle uselessly worried and guilt-ridden, Bodie trying not to show how bad he felt. When a particularly strong spasm forced him to double over in his seat, biting his lips to stop from whimpering, Doyle pulled the car to the side, and stopped it. One glance having assessed the virtual emptiness of the road, he slid his arm round Bodie's shoulders, pulling him close.

"Wish we were at home now, Bodie... I could have pampered you, and you would have loved it... Here, let me..."

He undid Bodie's trousers, gently sliding his hand inside, and began a tender massage of the hurting belly of his mate. His long-fingered, strong hands were as adept at soothing as they were at hurting. He knew how to touch Bodie to calm him, to coax his muscles to relax, to unfurl him from his twisted position on the seat. It took only a few minutes, then Bodie was able to sit upright again, the discomfort greatly diminished. He gave Doyle a timid, hesitant smile, and Doyle kissed him lightly on the cheek, not daring to do more, lest his love for his beautiful mate got the better of him.

"Feelin' better? Christ, you really got me going last night, do you know that? That's why..." He thought better than to expand on their nightly activities now that other concerns had to be foremost in their mind, and he let his sentence trail off.

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" answered Bodie with a smile, in a more assured tone. Doyle had been worried to see him so subdued before, but he understood it had been mainly due to lack of sleep and the shock of having to go out. The discomfort Bodie would experience during the day could not be helped, but Doyle would do all he could to minimize it.

"I'll be all right", Bodie went on. "You know I'm never at my best in the morning, and considering what we did..." He saw Doyle opening his mouth to speak, and silenced him with a finger alighting on the full lips. "No more guilt trips about it, okay? I was perfectly willing, as I always am. I suppose saying no... is part of the game. It's as if I had no choice... Yet I know I have... Shit, I'm no good at explaining things, Ray! Can't you take my word for it and stuff it?"

A nervous giggle escaped Doyle as the poorly-phrased reassurance reminded him of what exactly he had done to Bodie. "That I did, mate, that I did! Jesus, you really have a way with words, haven't you?"

Bodie, only now realizing what he'd said, joined Ray in his laughter, still a little brittle but tending to normalcy. This ability to share laughter, that they'd found since the very beginning, was one of their greater strengths - and something which drove their other colleagues crazy, as most of the time the reasons for their shared mirth was not apparent to outsiders.

Calmed down, their eyes met and held, dark blue and forest green merging, the love between them almost palpable. The moment lasted an eternity - the whole of a few seconds - then Doyle resolutely turned his attention back to the car, the driving, and the day's job. Entranced, Bodie watched his face lose its dreamlike quality to become the hard, set face of the professional, a no-nonsense face. So different from the ethereal appearance, or the satyr's looks, or the child-like tenderness that was also Doyle’s; a man made of contradictions, much more so than most of his fellow beings. Even his physical aspect seemed to change: from achingly beautiful one moment, he could become almost ugly the next. His broken cheekbone - a mystery Doyle had never cared to explain, and that Bodie had never dared to question - depending on its owner's mood, went from flaw to invisible to seductive difference. Bodie, who knew himself to be handsome, and had never thought much about it, even when he'd used it, was enthralled by his partner's beauty. The romantic words he would never dare to say aloud raced through his mind as the car raced on the deserted road. _Little sorcerer... My elfin prince... Knight in shining armour... My Ray, my love... Need you... Want you..._ His eyes closing, relaxing, the pain and aches of his body retreating far from his consciousness, he dozed lightly for the rest of the way to CI5's headquarters, basking in the light and love emanating from the man at his side.

* * *

As it turned out, the job Cowley had called them for was one a rookie could usually have accomplished: a stake out of a deserted warehouse which housed illegal activities. Standard procedure. The point was, those particular activities involved pushing drug on school children, and that was one of the two things that had the power to make Cowley really mad, the other one being, as Bodie had reasons to know, racial prejudice.

So this stake out was to be followed by arrests as soon as Castell, one of the main person responsible for the upsurge of heroin consumption in schools, would arrive in the warehouse to buy an hefty supply of the drug. The grass had sworn that the drug-pusher would be here in person, as he was renowned for not trusting anyone and conducting his deals personally.

Murphy and McCabe were behind the warehouse, ready to take position as soon as Doyle and Bodie, the team leaders they were waiting for, would radio them the order to move. On the side of the building, Simons and Mallory, a relatively new, but successful partnership, were also waiting for the same order.

They arrived at the warehouse early, even before the sellers had arrived. And Castell was due an hour after them. Seizing the drug would have been a good op in itself, but Cowley was intent to put a stop to Castell's criminal carrier, and that was the main reason of the stake out.

Doyle watched Bodie like an eagle, noting the bruised look under his eyes that betrayed his lack of sleep. But he _was_ feeling better, that much was obvious. Even tired, or hurting, he was able to function once things started to move. Bodie was primarily a man of action. The other sides of his nature - the private man Doyle had come to know and to love - were not only hidden from sight; they had, of necessity, to come second to his survivor's skills, the ones that had enabled him to leave Africa alive and more or less untouched by his experiences there.

As it was, they had at least an hour before the sellers arrived.

"You should get some kip, sunshine. I'll make sure to wake you up in time for the fireworks..."

Surprised, Doyle turned his head to meet Bodie's eyes.

"Shouldn't you be the one to rest?" he began, but Bodie interrupted briskly.

"Couldn't. I've had too much coffee at Headquarters. I needed it, mind! Nah, go ahead, rest, and I'll watch out. No point in us both staying awake as long as nobody's here..."

Suddenly, Doyle understood what Bodie was not saying. _Trust me, Ray. I can function as well as usual, I'm not disabled, I can protect your back. No need to be afraid, for you or for me._

He smiled at Bodie then, gave a little pat on his arm, and closed his eyes. Two minutes later, he was asleep.  
  
Bodie's eyes were trained on the warehouse, his R/T close at hand. The team leaders would call the other units every ten minutes to make sure all was in order. The units were to call the team leaders if something new happened in between calls.

Bodie spared a look for his sleeping partner, and the fallen angel face, the longish curls, the kissable mouth, made his blood stir and memories course through his mind.

Feeling as if he belonged to two very different worlds - which in a certain sense he did - he used a mental concentration exercise from his martial arts training to clean and focus his mind on the job at hand, refusing the events of the night before to interfere with his work, even if flashes kept coming back to him at odd moments.

* * *

"Raise your legs, Bodie. Yes, like this", Doyle approved as Bodie pulled his legs up to his chest, his knees on either side of his body, almost touching the bed. For a man of his build and size, Bodie was surprisingly limber, probably due to his practice of martial arts. Doyle pushed a pillow under his lover's buttocks, helping him to remain in the constricted position; a position which presented to sight the tight bud of his anus perfectly. That totally suited Doyle's aims. He took the crop again, and was rewarded by the shuddering sigh Bodie exhaled, anticipating and fearing what Doyle was about to do.

Bodie, for all his strength, was unable to restrain a whimper when the crop hit him precisely where he was most exposed. The pain shot up his anus right to his heart, but he managed not to move.

"Hurts, doesn't it? Well, it's going to hurt more in a while... Tell me what it does to you, Bodie. Tell me what you feel..."

"Oh, Ray..." Bodie whispered, tears rolling from his eyes. "It's... so deliciously painful... Please... More..." His eyes closed, and he waited for the next blow. And the next. When Bodie was whimpering unashamedly and his anus looked bruised and swollen enough, Doyle threw the crop haphazardly to the floor, and retrieved the box which contained the toy - or rather the toys - he had reserved for this very special night.

The case was a wooden, plain black one with a silver catch. Once opened, it revealed a red satin interior, in which were nestled eight smooth-looking metal probes, not at all shaped like penises, but rather like futuristic rockets, with tapered heads and pure, cylindric lines. The first one was the size of a big finger, and they built up from there, each probe thicker and longer than the previous one.

"See them, Bodie? They're beautiful, ain't they? I'm going to put them in you. All of them. You're going to be more opened than you ever were, and you're going to like it."

Panic flickered in the dark blue eyes. "Ray, no! They're too big! The first ones, yes... but the others... You're going to kill me!"

"Shhh... Trust me, Bodie. You'll want it in a while. Here, we'll begin with the smallest one, you'll get used to it. You're going to be dilated slowly, slowly..."

The cold, metallic contact of the first probe on his burning anus made Bodie shiver and twist, but he did not try to escape it in any other way, and Doyle inserted it smoothly. He did not use lubricant, as Bodie's insides were moist with lust, and when Doyle moved the device slowly in and out, his lover's moans betrayed his excitation and pleasure. Doyle withdrew the first probe, and inserted immediately the second one, at the same time pulling on the clamps to renew the pain in Bodie's tits.

Bodie's initial panic seemed to have abated. Yet Doyle could sense his fear, while knowing instinctively his friend would accept whatever was handed to him, whatever the cost.

The sounds Bodie made changed in quality as Ray inserted the fifth probe. The previous ones had been accepted with increasing difficulty, and this time he had to use Vaseline to obtain the needed level of distension. The anus looked raw and too stretched, and as the thick object made its way inside his rectum, Bodie caught Doyle's arm and moaned, "Please, Ray, no more, I can't stand it, oh god, it hurts too much, please, stop!"

Doyle smiled sweetly at Bodie, and pushed the probe fully inside, twisting it at the same time. Bodie's hands clamped on his abdomen as he tried to endure the violent contractions induced by Doyle's brutal assault. As soon as they had calmed down, the movement in his guts resumed, the probe going in and out, in and out, deeper, deeper, faster, distending and hurting, until he could no longer bear it and screamed, a high-pitched sound that betrayed his anguish.

Doyle removed the probe, and thoughtfully massaged Bodie's anus, inserting cream in the already well-distended hole, thoroughly greasing the rim of muscle. He spared some time for the strapped genitals, noting with satisfaction that Bodie's cock was still rigid with need. The stretched balls were very sensitive to his gentle touch, and he lingered on them, even bending over to lick and moisten them thoroughly. Then he took the sixth probe, and pushed it inside. Bodie's scream was half-choked, and his pleas to stop were muffled by the hand he'd brought to his mouth and bitten until it bled.

When the seventh probe went in, Bodie half-swooned, and Doyle had to wait for him to regain his senses before going on. He knew anal distension could cause such fainting fits, and he stroked gently Bodie's cheeks and neck, kissing and biting him lightly until he revived. But he did not remove the already-inserted probe, and as Bodie's color returned, he penetrated him fully with the device, eliciting another scream. But Bodie did not faint again, and Doyle fucked his friend's arse with increasing strength and speed, his hand a blurr of motion as it drove the metal probe deep in the innermost recesses of Bodie's body.

The dark-haired man was crying by the time Doyle removed the probe, only one remaining in the case, the one which, he hoped, would tear Bodie's anus. He stroked and petted him all over, and murmured softly to him.

"There's only one left, love. I'm going to put it in you, and then I'm going to fuck you as you've never been fucked... Tell me you want it, Bodie, ask me to screw you with it... This one'll really hurt you... It's so big... Here, sweetheart, make it slick for me." He pushed the last probe between Bodie's lips, which parted helplessly. His face ashen, his limbs trembling with dread, tears rolling down his cheeks, he licked and moistened the cold invader that was going to plunder his guts.

Bodie's throat was still emitting low sounds of denial when the eighth probe was forced inside him. Doyle watched the packed anus distending beyond its capacity, then blood appearing all around as it gave way and began to tear. Bodie was already in so much pain that he barely noticed the added hurt of the new wounds. He screamed "No, Ray, please, no! Please, please, no more! I can't endure this, I can't..."

Ray stopped then, the probe deep in the quivering arse, surveying the body doubled over for his pleasure, knowing, as Bodie knew, that it would have been a simple matter for the younger man to force Doyle to stop and to call it quit. He did no more than watch Bodie thoughtfully for several long seconds, then his hand went to the clamps, and jarred them. Bodie made a little sound of ecstasy, then he began to move against the deeply-embedded intruder, his head whipping angrily from side to side on the pillow, remaining silent save for the feral moans that escaped his throat. Doyle's free hand went to Bodie's belly, and pressed it strongly, probing with stiffened fingers, feeling the tremors that coursed through the wire-taut body, doing nothing more than holding firmly the probe while Bodie was fucking himself on it, implicitly admitting what they had both known all along, that he was a perfectly willing participant in their shared fantasies.

Doyle peered down at the flushed face of his lover, and what he saw in the blue eyes set his blood on fire. Impatient now, as eager to complete the act as he had been to delay it as long as he could, he yanked the probe out and replaced it with his blood-engorged cock. The passage was not as tight as usual, but Doyle was so excited that he could have come only by looking at Bodie. He stilled, not wanting to spoil it by a too-swift release, stroking Bodie's heaving flanks. The man was as close to the edge as he himself was, his strapped genitals flushed and heavy.

He pulled out, urging Bodie to turn over on his hands and knees, then re-entered him from behind in one swift stroke. Bodie screamed, and reared back on the rigid shaft to stimulate further his prostate, which was sending waves of agonized delight through his belly. Doyle's hands roamed all over his mate's body, flank, chest, back, belly... then stilled on the leather device enclosing his sex. As their thrusting became more and more frantic, Doyle quickly released the straps and pumped the eager shaft that jumped in his hand like a small, wistful animal.

It was a wild coupling, Bodie no longer passive, thrusting back and rotating his hips in a wanton way, his moans of delight echoing the keening sounds of Doyle's pleasure. They came with a joint cry, their bodies trembling together in the sweetness of release. Doyle hands went to the tits and freed them from the clamps, briskly massaging them to soothe the pain of returning circulation. When their limbs gave way, they slumped to the bed, Doyle's slowly softening prick still deeply embedded in Bodie's insides.

Bodie liked for them to remain joined as long as possible after lovemaking, the pressure in his rectum and the weight on his back a tangible proof of their commitment. Doyle too enjoyed this post-coital closeness, the feeling it gave him of owning Bodie totally. When nature separated them, Bodie turned on his side to remain in Doyle's embrace, and Doyle's lean body curled around his partner, a possessive hand resting on his belly. Doyle kissed sleepily the chiseled profile, and, snuggled together, they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The warehouse op had been a piece of cake. Everything went on as planed, and when Castell arrived, with a bulky bloke that was probably a bodyguard, the CI5's men made their move. Cornered, and outnumbered, the four villains opposed no resistance to their arrest. But Doyle, who'd been somehow worried about Bodie, was the one to make a mistake. He did not watch closely enough the man he was frisking, - Castell's bodyguard - and could not react in time to avoid the attack. However, he managed to deflect the deadly blade aiming for his heart, and was hit in the left shoulder instead. Bodie turned sharply at his scream of pain, assessed the situation, and reacted with deadly speed. He fell down the bodyguard with a powerful chop to the neck, then turned to a white, shaking Doyle who was still trying to overcome the shock of the sudden attack and the pain of his wound. The knife had been yanked out by the bodyguard, who had perhaps hoped he might be able to hit again, and the wound was bleeding freely.

Meanwhile, the other CI5 men had been busy manacling the criminals, and getting them into their cars. Bodie put his arm around Doyle's waist, and felt him sag against the support he provided. The blood loss was worrying, and Bodie urged his lover to their car, intent on bringing him to hospital. His worry did not abate when Doyle's legs gave out under him, and he would have fallen without the strong arms that were ready to catch him. Bodie carried Doyle the last few meters to the car, holding him preciously in his arms, uncaring of the pain that the effort revived.

Bodie had difficulties getting Doyle in the car, for Doyle was all but unconscious, and Bodie was stiff and hurting. He managed to do a makeshift bandage to try and staunch the blood, then drove to the nearest hospital in record time. Doyle was taken to the emergency room for treatment, and Bodie remained in the waiting room, worried sick and pacing restlessly until Cowley appeared from nowhere, handing out a cup of strong coffee, and patting his shoulder.

"You did well today, laddie. I was told Doyle is not in danger of his life, and..."

"How?" interrupted Bodie. "How do you know? I... I mean..." He rubbed a tired hand across an even more tired face. Cowley eyed him thoughfully.

"I asked at the nurses' office. Did you not think to do the same thing? Here," he added as Bodie swayed on his feet, "sit down. They should have told you, but they’ve so many things on their minds... They must have assumed you knew he was all right."

"No, I... didn’t. Will he be allowed to leave today? We... he... needs rest. We didn’t have much sleep last night, and..."

Bodie could have bitten out his tongue. He'd been about to tell too much, and to Cowley to top it all! Nobody knew about them, and rightly so. Cowley was not a prejudiced man, but Bodie wondered how he would react to knowing that his two best agents were not only lovers, but also indulged in a kind of sexual behavior that most people would call perverted and sick.

"We'll know in a little while, they are almost done with him - or so they said. Well, if he is allowed out, I'd rather you take him to your place, or accompany him to his. I know Ray Doyle, he is likely to overdo everything. I'll give you both two days off, to let you rest properly. But I'll be expecting you by thursday - with Doyle if he's permitted to work. And make the most of your time together."

Not believing his ears, Bodie could only stare blankly at his boss, and wonder if this was the way Cowley had chosen to let him know that he knew, and did not disapprove.

* * *

There had been a minor scuffle at the hospital when Doyle had categorically refused to remain in observation "a day or so". The wound had been stitched up, his arm had been put in a sling, he'd been given injections and some blood serum, and he was already fed up with it all and restless. He had antibiotics and painkillers to take, and he was adamant he could do it at home, as the skills required to swallow pills were well within the limits of his intelligence. His acerbic tongue and Bodie's support won the day, and they were allowed to leave. Bodie, elated and feeling as if Cowley had given them his benediction, drove straight to Doyle's flat, knowing his friend would feel more at ease at his own place, particularly as he was going to have difficulties moving his arm for some time.

As soon as they were home, Doyle sat in the couch with a weary sigh, and Bodie set about making a quick meal with whatever he could scare up from Doyle's nearly-empty cupboard and fridge.

They ate in silence, both men bone-tired and hurting. Doyle, not wanting to worry Bodie, waited too long before taking another painkiller, and by the time he was forced to, he was chalk-white and Bodie was frantic. Doyle would have found his own stubbornness and Bodie's motherly concern very funny if his shoulder had not been giving him hell. He announced shortly thereafter that he was going to bed, and Bodie, feeling worse than he cared to let on, followed him.

They were too exhausted to want anything more than closeness, and besides it was not uncommon for them to stop sexual activities for a while after a S/M session. For one, Bodie needed time to heal, and the very intensity of what they did at those moments tended to exhaust their libido for a while. Being together, feeling the unspoken love between them, was enough. Well, nearly enough, Bodie thought a little ruefully. Although he'd never said it in so many words, he knew he was in love with Doyle, but he was not so sure of his partner's feelings. Lust, yes, he could see it in Doyle's eyes when they made love. And friendship, and trust. But love? Or was love, anyway, a combination of all the above, something that needed not be named to exist? Bodie felt a powerful surge of this unnamed feeling, and pressed closer to an already sleeping Doyle, taking care not to touch his bandaged shoulder, but slipping his arm around Doyle's waist.

Bodie had learned, very early in life, that it was wiser to take all he could take, when he could, for there was always a distinct possibility that he would not live to see another day. It had been true for the seventeen-years-old boy in the African jungle; it had applied to the young soldier who'd been caught in the civil war in Ireland; it still held true for the older CI5 agent. Dismissing his earlier doubts, glad to feel the warmth of his beloved alongside him, Bodie relaxed in the certitude that whatever was between them, was. He let sleep claim him then, still holding lightly his lover.

* * *

The two-days’ rest did them a world of good, and as it turned out, Doyle was able to return to light duty at the end of their leave. Not that writing reports, sorting through documents and organizing ops he would not participate in were precisely his cup of tea. But he knew he would have been a liability on an active operation, as his shoulder, while healing well, was stiff and aching and precluded any sudden or too-wide movement.

Bodie's various bruises and hurts were almost healed by the time they returned to headquarters, and he felt gloriously alive and well after two days spent idling in the sole company of his lover, even if they weren't up to much in the way of lovemaking. They indulged in gentle, unhurried couplings that left them drowsily satisfied, in total contrast with the darker activities they both enjoyed so much.

* * *

By the time their next leave was due, Bodie had come to a decision. His uncertainties and hesitations over, he wanted to let Doyle know exactly where he stood concerning their relationship. When he thought coldly about it, he understood they were already committed; he had no doubts about his own love for Doyle, had been sure for quite some time. He also surmised that Doyle felt the same for him, but some insecure part of his psyche had wanted to delay the inevitable, had shied from asking confirmation, in case he'd been mistaken and Doyle could not answer to his love in the manner he needed.

He had bought something that would serve to seal their wows if Doyle responded in the way Bodie hoped; that something was hidden in the bedroom. He had invited Doyle to his place, and had ordered a meal to be brought over by one of the best restaurant in his neighborhood, with all the delicacies which appealed to Ray's sometimes fickle appetite. He had put the Lambrusco wine and the champagne in the fridge, the cheese to warm in the room, the fruit salad to cool, the main course to heat in the oven. He was not able to cook as Doyle was, but he had tried to compensate for it by dressing up the table as nicely as he could, complete with candlelight and white tablecloth. You're an incurable romantic, Bodie! He thought mockingly. But he hoped, oh, how he hoped, that Ray would not turn him away, would not dismiss his love!

When Ray arrived, to Bodie's delighted surprise, he offered him a single red rose. His hopes soaring, almost not daring to believe Ray's mood was as romantic as his, he kissed him deeply, then led him to the prepared table, rejoicing in his friend's pleasure at the sight of the feast which awaited him.

"Tonight, you're doing nothing. I'll do it all, serve you as if you were a prince. I already went to unprecedented lengths to serve you a nice - a very nice - meal..."

"I'll bet! You went as far as Tony's restaurant! I can smell his lasagna's unmistakable aroma wafting from your kitchen. And if you don't hurry up, I'll be a prince being served carbonized lasagna by his devoted butler."

Bodie jumped to the rescue of his beloved - and quite expensive - Ray's special. That little hurdle overcome, they settled in the comfortable routine of sharing fine food, fine wine and fine champagne-flavored kisses. Bodie was so intoxicated on Ray by the end of the meal, that he would have traded all the world's wealth for one of his kisses. When he said it 'as is' to his lover, Ray first giggled, then sobbered and plunged his forest-green gaze in the sea-blue eyes of his mate, and said "D'you know, Bodie, if it were possible, I'd ask you to marry me. On reflexion, I'll ask you, even if it's not possible." Taking Bodie's hand, his eyes wide and luminous, all traces of bantering gone from his voice, he murmured, "for better and for worse, until death do us part, will you take me for your spouse?"

The tears that Bodie had felt welling in his eyes spilled out then. He covered Doyle's small hand with his bigger one, and solemnly repeated the words. "For better and for worse, I do take thee for my spouse. And let us not be parted by Death either. He has no power over us, Ray. I'll be yours in all eternity, as you'll be mine."

* * *

Later, in the bedroom, Bodie offered his gift to Doyle, sure that it would be accepted. It reminded him of the first such gift he had presented Doyle with, the one that had been his confession of being different, of having needs not shared by most of people.

It was a single, small gold ring, too small for a finger, with a little blue stone imbedded in it, and, unlike a finger ring, it opened in two halves on a tiny hinge. Not unlike an earring, it had a thinner center, and Doyle understood suddenly what it was.

Longingly stroking Bodie's left nipple, Doyle murmured huskily, "You know I'd love to, Bodie, but we'd discussed it before, and it's not safe. You could be wounded, brought to hospital, and then what? These things are not regarded kindly in our time and place, you know! I won't expose you to discovery."

"I don't need to wear it all the time, Ray. It's really like an earring... I'll only need to have it on for a few days, while my nipple's healing. Then the ring's removable. See? The central section is real small, it'll make only tiny holes – no one will see them if they're not particularly looking for them. Please?"

Overwhelmed, and excited at the prospect of realizing one of his no-so-secret dreams, Doyle kissed his lover, then asked, "when?", and was answered by an unequivocal "now"; then Bodie produced the necessary apparatus that he had purchased along with the nipple ring. It was comprised of a tube of disinfecting gel, sterile tissues and a needle. The seller had also offered him anaesthetic cream, which Bodie had neglected to buy.

With some trepidation, Doyle unscrewed the tube of gel, tore open one of the tissues' bags, and set about thoroughly cleansing his hands and Bodie's left nipple. Then he disinfected the ring and the needle, which he disposed on another sterile cloth. When the moment came to actually pierce Bodie's nipple, hesitation plain on his face, he leaned over his reclining lover, kissed him and asked, soft-voiced, "are you sure?".

"I’m sure."

"It's going to hurt, Bodie. Are you ready for it?"

"I am. Do it, Ray. I've been dreaming of it for... oh..." Bodie's head thrashed on the pillow as Ray began slowly pushing the needle through his erect nipple. The pain was sharp, sharper than that of the clamps had ever been, and quite different in quality. Bodie wished it could last for hours, that feeling of being pierced endlessly, held on the thin edge of such torturous delight that he felt his cock throb and lengthen with desire with each passing second. Then the needle went out on the other side, and Doyle began moving it slowly to and fro, preparing the passage for the ring. After an indeterminate length of time, he removed the needle and inserted the ring, his elfin face closed up in concentration, savoring each moment as much as Bodie did.

When it was done, he cleaned again the whole area, wiping the little trace of blood that was oozing from the wound, slowly caressing the decorated nipple, admiring the beauty of the ring, and the stone that matched Bodie's eyes. He knew that each slight touch on the already-swelling bud created delightful agony in his lover's flesh, and reveled in the knowledge. Bodie caught his hand then, kissing it with reverence, drunk on the unrelenting pain in his nipple and on the man which had bestowed it on him, a symbol of their exchanged wows.

They made love slowly, Bodie's body languidly opening under Doyle's knowing hands, their joining unhurried and tender; this time the love words were murmured by both men, all-important nothings that lovers have said to each other since the world existed.

Modern warrior brothers having sealed their commitment in blood as their elders had done in times past, unheeding of the tales that would be told of their friendship, and of their love, they gazed in each other's eyes and found peace in their depths.


End file.
